


Reverie

by Blu3sc0rpion



Series: Twisted Fates [3]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Begging, Blood As Lube, Blood Kink, Blow Jobs, Cum Eating, Face-Fucking, Facials, Hair-pulling, M/M, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Praise Kink, Prostate Milking, Rape/Non-con Elements, Semi-Public Sex, Sith Qui-Gon Jinn, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25179064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blu3sc0rpion/pseuds/Blu3sc0rpion
Summary: -This takes place BEFORE the events of Debted---Read the tags!--Qui-gon is feeling particularly frustrated while on a long, grueling mission, and as always, Obi-wan is there to ease his nerves. Que in the senseless porn embedded in previous existing plot because, reasons.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Twisted Fates [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692727
Comments: 5
Kudos: 69





	Reverie

Obi-wan breathes in short, timid pulls. He’s afraid to move, afraid to make things worse for himself than he already has. He knows he should have been more attentive but he was exhausted after staying awake for so long without a single moment to rest or meditate. Of course with his Master there were no excuses to be had, they would only make him angrier, more wrathful. 

Jinn towers over him, pinning him between the grungy bathroom stall door and his broad shoulders. His Master takes a fist of his tunic and spins him around, slamming him against the hard duraplast. They aren’t alone, Obi-wan can hear other stall doors open and close, hear faucets run and stop, and the low chatter of voices outside. It doesn’t matter- if anything this small veil of privacy is a gift. Jinn can take him in much more public ways if he wants to. He has before and Obi-wan suspects he will again. 

Qui-gon’s hands tear down at the waist of his leggings. At this point, he’s well-practiced in forcibly disrobing him for his own needs. Obi-wan’s hands fumble to hold the top of the door, his fingers hooking over the edge to steady himself. He’s dizzy from the lack of oxygen, from the short, rapid breaths. He should be better conditioned after years of being used like this but the thought of his Master taking him in anger still frightens him. He lacks kindness in better times, and cruelty is never in short supply. 

Jinn grunts as he pulls himself from his leggings, Obi-wan can feel his breath hot on his neck. He  _ wants  _ to be good for him, he always does but it doesn’t always  _ matter _ . Even in his best attempts he so often fails and is reduced to this- a quick, hard fuck for his Master that will put him in a better mood for a little while until the next thing offsets his temper. 

Obi-wan hears his Master spit on his hand and jumps when it crudely wets his entrance- still sore from the last time Jinn needed soothing. He’s not nearly wet enough to be comfortable when Qui-gon shoves himself against his abused, aching hole. He’s slick but just enough to create a painful friction as Jinn forces himself inside. 

Obi-wan cinches his eyes closed and tries to keep his legs steady as his Master roughly sheaths his cock with a sickening grunt that he feels turn to stone in his stomach. There’s an involuntary whimper for the pain that he muffles into his own shoulder and his grip on the door tightens as Jinn falls into a fast, brutal rhythm. The tears that trail down his face are a reflexive response to the pain that he can’t help even if he were to try. Right now there’s no room to focus on staying them, all he can do is stifle cries from leaving his lips that try to escape with every pump of his Master’s cock. 

Obi-wan’s whole body cringes from the pain and Jinn clearly finds it displeasing. A hand grabs his hip forces him to arch his back allowing his Master to fuck into him deeper and he does- noting his pleasure with breathless, catching moans. Obi-wan sucks a breath into his lungs and a tiny cry of agony tears out of him- accidental as well and to his detriment. 

A hand slams against the back of his head, shoving his face into the duraplast door and breaking skin. His Master's cock pistons inside him, slick as he's literally fucked raw.  There’s a dull ache of pleasure but it doesn’t rise past the searing pain that Qui-gon wants him to feel. Desperately, his body holds rigid and his knees wobble as the stall door slams in its frame, rattling with every pound of Jinn’s hips. 

He wants to beg for softer hands and kinder thrusts but it would only make things worse. The hand still holds against his skull, grinding his face into the rough duraplast composite. He feels his Master’s girth tent in the hollow of his belly and a trickle of something warm and viscous trail down his inner thigh.

Obi-wan searches for the dull pleasure beneath the pain that is almost blinding but not quite. Blessedly, it dims as he dives into it and his body goes lax. His knees weaken as Jinn slams into him without relent, hard and voracious in his claiming. There’s a measure of comfort-  _ pleasure  _ even, in knowing how it pleases Jinn to use him like this, though words of praise or confirmation were few and far between. Mostly validation came in snarling grunts and pleasured gasps. Really, it was all he needed. It _had_ to be enough. 

And it is enough for him right now- the feral growls, just barely audible as Jinn’s tempo becomes erratic and unpredictable. Obi-wan can feel the rise of breath trapping in his Master’s lungs as he grows harder, the bruising hold on his hip cinching tighter and the tepid heat of Jinn’s mouth panting against his neck. 

Obi-wan gasps, realizing how oversensitive his whole body had become when his Master’s tongue tasted him, dragging on his neck, behind his ear, wet, carnal, and sloppy. He can practically hear the snarl of pleasure on his lip as he came, nearly convulsing as he collapses against him. After, Jinn gently heaves for breath, slightly winded from exertion. 

Obi-wan clings to the door desperately as his Master withdraws from him, knowing his legs would not hold him if he were to lose his grip. His throat is taut from restraint, holding back screams, pleas, and pleasured whimpers.

Slowly he releases his hold. His fingers are painfully stiff and he flexes them, trying to breathe relief into everything that hurts. Jinn stands before him, fixing his trousers and straightening his clothes. Obi-wan can barely move.

“D-did I please you, Master?” He whispers shakily, propping himself up against the door. His legs can’t take the whole of his weight quite yet. 

A fierce blush rises up over his face when he realizes the aching want that still burns inside of him. He’s half-hard for force’s sake, his yearning erection weeping for attention. 

Obi-wan doesn’t dare meet his Master’s gaze but he can feel it burn through him. He hears him sit, hears the slide of his boots against the dirty tile floor as his legs spread open, and Obi-wan dreads being used  _ again.  _ He’s needy but the horrid pain he feels outweighs any desire to have his Master’s cock fill him so soon. He’s still bleeding, he can feel it, wet and sticky between his thighs. 

“Come,” Jinn orders and Obi-wan obeys, legs trembling like a foal, only just keeping him from collapsing. His leggings still pool at his knees, he doesn’t dare try to fix them himself for fear of the punishment it would bring. He can tell by his Master’s voice that the man isn’t quite done with him yet. 

Jinn pats a hand on his thigh, a command in itself but not without verbal confirmation. “Sit.” 

Obi-wan’s stomach twists with apprehension. He feels faint at the thought of enduring him  _ again.  _ His whole body trembles with fear as he dares to speak. 

“Please Master, not  _ again, _ ” Obi-wan whispers, his heart stealing breath from his lungs as it stutters. 

Instead of the slap he expected or some other means of violence, Jinn reaches out a hand for him, waiting for Obi-wan to take it. It tickles in his stomach and makes his legs feel weaker and he immediately obeys. 

His Master guides him to recline in his arms, cradling him gently with his knees pulled to his chest. His heart swells so much he feels like it might explode in his chest. He’s always been tiny compared to his Master, and with each year he'd lost hope that he'd ever reach anywhere close to his stature, but being held like this he feels even smaller. Jinn could do anything to him, and so often he does but right now that imminence feels welcome instead of dreaded. 

His body feels hot to the touch, still painfully oversensitive when a finger slowly glides over his entrance and presses gently against his perineum. Obi-wan shivers and feels his mind go blank. He lets out a hushed gasp for the warmth his Master stirs in him and feels his flagging girth harden until he is quickly and painfully erect. 

There’s a pull of satisfaction that sweeps over him and he can feel Jinn’s enjoyment, pushing his buttons, playing with him however he pleases. Moments ago what he wanted was pain. Right now Obi-wan can feel his Master revel in the pleasure he feels and he tries not to indulge himself in it however useless an effort it is. 

Qui-gon rocks his thumb gently against that tender spot and it aches in Obi-wan’s belly. He burns to touch himself but he won’t, he knows better than to do that without his Master’s permission. He knows Jinn can feel him asking through their bond, prostrating to pleasure himself with much less shame than he usually felt when reduced to begging like this. 

Perhaps it’s the days without sleep that’s stripped him so bare of any pride he still had left, that Jinn had yet to take from him. The reason really didn’t matter. Obi-wan’s hands grip desperately at his own legs as he lays in his Master’s lap, feeling the delicate pressure stir ravenously inside him. To keep from moaning he bites his lip and it works mostly, though pathetic gasps still wrench from his throat as his Master plays with him, massaging closer and closer to his entrance, teasing and taunting him. 

Jinn’s free hand tangles in Obi-wan’s hair and turns his face so he can look at him. Obi-wan is still flushed, panting with lips parted and a sex hazed stare that can barely focus on his Master’s face. He feels the man’s eyes bore into him though, watching him intently, covetously. 

A single digit presses its way inside of him. It does hurt but the pleasure drowns out everything, making any discomfort fall out of his awareness. Jinn knows exactly what he’s doing, knows all of Obi-wan’s buttons. A euphoric surge of warmth floods him when his Master finds his prostate and he doesn’t relent. 

His cock is aching, weeping and throbbing with need and he isn’t sure he’ll be able to keep from touching himself much longer. He’s all but convulsing in his Master’s arms and he can’t even hold back his cries of pleasure anymore. They drift in the air unabated and Jinn basks in them, his eyes blown and destitute with need. 

“ _ Pl-please, please Master please, _ ” Obi-wan breathes with staggered, jagged breaths. Jinn’s eyes smile darkly without the curl of satisfaction moving from his lip. 

“So greedy, _ Padawan, _ ” Jinn growls, pressing a second finger inside him, working him harder. 

Obi-wan is panting, moans imbued with every breath as he begs wordlessly for his Master to finish him. Tears of want bead in his eyes and he feels himself tighten around Jinn’s fingers, aching for release. The pleasure is so blinding that it’s easy to forget what he is to this man. He wants to forget the pain, wants to live in this heaven for as long as his Master allows him to. 

He knows seconds after release he’ll be praying this memory away just the same. He’ll be cursing its existence and his weakness to the man’s whims. He’ll hate his own skin for wanting to please Jinn but right now it’s  _ all  _ he wants. 

His legs are trembling when he spills, soiling both their clothes. He feels ecstasy bleed into his body, tingling, pulsing, and warm. Jinn’s fingers leave him too soon and an empty void takes their place, aching with echoes of pleasure. 

Qui-gon drags a finger through Obi-wan’s seed, bringing it to his lips and reflexively he opens his mouth. He’d been trained to obey but he  _ wants  _ to taste himself, his Master’s seed, and the iron-rich tang that mixes between. He sucks Jinn’s finger clean and waits for the next and his Master indulges him, rapt by the obscenity of it. 

Something dark sparks in Jinn’s eyes and his hand rushes to Obi-wan’s jaw, forcibly wrenching it open as he leans in close, licking into his mouth languidly before their lips meet. His Master’s kiss is hungry and desperate and he’s willingly pliant in the man’s arms. 

“ _ On your knees, _ ” Jinn growls, lips wet against his own. 

Shakily, Obi-wan rushes to comply as his Master pulls his straining erection from his leggings again, still wet and sullied from when he fucked him only minutes before. He’s too eager when he puts his mouth on him, lapping up the traces of his Master’s seed mingled with his own blood, feeling drunk on the taste. 

He feels Jinn shudder, hears the unsteady breath leave his lungs as a hand tangles in his cropped hair, guiding him, and Obi-wan relishes the feeling. Qui-gon isn’t a vocal man when it comes to pleasure, but something’s come unhinged and his composure is slipping. Obi-wan works diligently, sucking and swallowing his Master over and over again, eliciting sweet, libidinous sounds from his lips. He feels Jinn’s hips twitch as the hand in his hair tightens, shoving his cock down his throat. 

“ _ Such a good boy-”  _ Jinn moans, hips bucking up into his mouth, “ _ so good for your Master-”  _

Obi-wan preens under the praise, feeling his Qui-gon’s cock harden in his throat. Just as Obi-wan feels his Master about to cum Jinn’s fist yanks his head off of him and quickly takes himself in his fist, stroking himself in a trembling, frantic grip. Obi-wan’s eyes gaze up at the man as he spills with a stuttered, graceless moan. 

Hot seed covers Obi-wan’s face and he can’t help himself from lapping it from his lips, savoring the taste and the look in Jinn’s eyes for his brashness. Hand still pulling firmly in his hair, Jinn heaves him up and licks the rest from his face and neck before crushing another demanding kiss onto his lips. 

Qui-gon’s com trills, interrupting the moment that Obi-wan felt desperate to hold onto. He always aimed to please the man but it was so rare that his efforts were so rewarded. He doesn’t want this to end- even if it is just a dirty fuck in a bathroom stall. After it was over that’s all it would feel like, and the passion, the intimacy, would all be lost just as all the other moments had been. They would be drowned out by too much pain and suffering. 

Jinn grits his teeth before he answers the call, his aura returning to it’s typical frustrated, violent state. Obi-wan can’t hear the words his Master speaks or the voice on the other end of the link. His heart is screaming for time to stop, for them to live in this moment forever- and for other things that are impossible. 

“Come on, Padawan,” Jinn grumbles, fixing his robes again as he stands. Gently he looks Obi-wan over, bloodied, bruised and covered in both their seed. “Let’s get you cleaned up and be on our way,” he says gently- the last bit of warmth Obi-wan would receive for several weeks, at least. 

Obi-wan hastily fixes his leggings and tunic and waits as his Master dabs at his cuts with a wet paper towel- it's all they will have access to until they get back to their ship. Just as always Jinn would tend to his wounds meticulously once they were in private, but the moment would be gone. The pain would be just pain and the warmth would be less than a memory. Those eyes would hold no trace of any capacity for the fascination and wonder Obi-wan knew he saw. 

  
He would question if it ever existed at all. 


End file.
